The King's Escape
King Philippe VII of Bluisol was no fool.
If he had ascended to the throne during peacetime, he might have earned the title of wise or enlightened ruler.
But even then, no one would have dared call him a cruel tyrant.
Still, Philippe VII was the type who put his own safety above everything else.
The moment he heard that the war had begun, he made no plans to fight.
He simply fled the capital.
When he reached Ileang Castle, many of his ministers were still with him.
A few had fled earlier, but the king paid them no mind.
If they never returned, he could not punish them.
And if they came back with brazen faces after the war ended, they would simply be cast out anyway.
As he scanned the faces of the remaining ministers, the king's brows furrowed.
The one person who should have been here was nowhere to be seen.
“The Foreign Minister is nowhere to be seen.”
“Your Majesty, Foreign Minister Divine Dragopoly remains with the Second Knights.”
The man who answered was from the office that handled audiences and greetings.
Though not of the highest rank, it was a position of considerable influence because he appointed officials.
As Finance Minister Gaspard listened, his expression turned odd.
He did not dislike Divine, nor did he like him.
That was precisely why he knew the man so well.
In Gaspard's eyes, Divine was a very “strange” person.
It was rather unexpected that someone like him would follow anyone else.
At the same time, Gaspard watched the king's mood.
The minister had vanished without reporting to the king and only left a note for another minister.
That was a grave offense.
“So that’s what happened… I was not the one… but the princess…”
Gaspard secretly sighed at the king’s mutter.
As expected.
The king was in a very bad mood.
‘He may have talent, but he is weak at handling people.’
Thinking of Divine, Gaspard clicked his tongue softly.
The king fell into silence.
A heavy quiet filled the temporary throne room of Ileang Castle.
No one spoke until the king opened his mouth.
The king was far more displeased than Gaspard had predicted, and far more than the other ministers imagined.
If only the ones who had fled were involved, the crime could be overlooked.
But following someone other than himself was akin to treason.
Especially so because it was his own child.
He felt as though Divine had said to him, “You are no better than a child.”
Fortunately, the king did not speak of Divine in front of the ministers present.
The ministers who had been tense, fearing an imperial decree, finally breathed a sigh of relief.
The meeting began.
The ministers who had fled and those who remained beside the king.
Some had to fill the vacant positions.
They could not keep everyone in place, so they began a reshuffle.
Normally, positions were filled through proper procedures: selecting candidates, reviewing their suitability, and obtaining the king’s approval.
But in this urgent situation of war, procedure and custom were set aside.
It looked appropriate on the surface, yet it also removed the king’s ability to check his ministers.
And as everyone had expected, the king granted positions to those who remained by his side.
One by one, names were called and offices were bestowed.
The ministers answered with “Yes, Your Majesty.” or “Thank you, Your Majesty.”
Relatively lower positions were filled first, leaving only the six major offices and the position of Prime Minister.
“I appoint Raphael to the position of Foreign Minister, and Simon to the position of Finance Minister.”
“We shall comply with Your Majesty’s will.”
The ministers answered on instinct without properly hearing the contents.
Even if they had heard clearly, they could not have objected in their current state.
Foreign Minister Divine Dragopoly, who had been absent from the capital, had his office stripped away.
For him, this outcome was fortunate.
One more thing remained.
If Raphael took the Finance Minister’s post, what would happen to Gaspard, who had held it originally?
Several people close to him secretly exchanged glances.
Gaspard stood calmly despite the stares aimed at him.
The king spoke again.
“And I appoint current Finance Minister Gaspard to the temporary Commander-in-Chief position.”
The ministers stirred.
This was an unprecedented reshuffle.
Even if it said “temporary,” the Commander-in-Chief was the highest office during wartime.
Gaspard quietly closed his eyes.
His rank had clearly risen, and if the war ended, he might even reach the position of Prime Minister.
Yet he felt no joy.
The king’s intentions were clear.
The real problem with this reshuffle was not simply that Finance Minister Gaspard would now command the army.
There was already a Minister of War and a Commander of the First Knights.
By deliberately placing Gaspard in that role, the king had shown he intended to treat the First Knights as his personal troops.
Moreover, the king planned to replace the ministers with younger men.
After all, it would be easier to control the young.
By holding the power of appointment and dismissal, even the remaining elderly ministers would shrink from the king’s gaze, making this a very effective political tool.
‘If only there had been no war…’
Without the war, such actions would not have been a problem.
Everything stemmed from the war.
Since he could not blame the king, Gaspard blamed the war.
The king who, in a time of crisis, abandoned his people to flee while using his own child as bait, the king who fought with his ministers, the king who refused to let go of power at all costs—Gaspard found the man pathetic.
But he knew deep down that it was wrong.
What good would knowing do? He was no longer the spirited young man who once was like Divine.
The national council, directed by the king himself, ended here.
The king rose first from the temporary throne room, followed by the ministers in order.
Gaspard remained until last, then slowly walked out.
‘Commander-in-Chief.’
An awkward title for a civil official like him.
The king had entrusted the army to him, showing he placed great trust in him.
Yet in truth, he knew nothing of how to command troops.
More accurately, he had only studied the art of war in theory while learning his specialty.
That was fortunate, at least.
He would not be held accountable for defeat in war.
Defeat in a war where the enemy had already penetrated to the capital meant the end of the kingdom anyway, making punishment meaningless.
That was only possible if he was still alive at the time.
Gaspard headed toward the battlements.
As he walked with a complicated heart, Raphael Asteg, newly appointed Foreign Minister, approached him.
Raphael Asteg was the same age as Divine, the very youngest in Gaspard’s eyes.
Gaspard had liked the boy from childhood, but their relationship had become somewhat strained now.
Gaspard stopped.
Raphael greeted him.
“It has been a long time, Minister Gaspard.”
“I know we are not close enough for casual conversation, but what is it?”
“It is nothing else but that I am now Commander-in-Chief.
In wartime, it is the position right after the king’s own, so I am sure Your Excellency will feel great joy at having achieved what you wanted.”
“What I wanted… Do you know what I want, Raphael?”
“Everyone in the palace knows that Minister Gaspard has been eyeing the position of Prime Minister.”
Raphael’s gaze toward Gaspard was not kind.
Among the younger ministers, Gaspard was a symbol of the old ways, and many disliked him.
“You seem displeased that I have risen to the Commander-in-Chief position.”
“That is the natural result of the greedy behavior you showed as a minister.”
“I will not deny that.
After all, a single life is short, and one should harbor ambition to sit at the highest position one can reach.”
Gaspard revealed his honest feelings despite knowing what they were thinking.
Now that he had to live worrying about others’ eyes, it was exhausting.
Gaspard looked at the distant sky and continued.
“But I already know that as a citizen of this country, whether Prime Minister or not, the nation must remain, or my position has no meaning.”
Raphael found Gaspard’s reply rather unexpected.
He had assumed the man only craved power.
Or was he simply pretending? Confused, he watched Gaspard climb the battlements.
Raphael called out loudly.
“Where are you going?”
Raphael was a man far from concerned with dignity or prestige.
After all, as a child he and his close friend Simon had been famous as a troublesome duo, so his current demeanor was quite subdued.
“I am going to check on the soldiers.”
“After all, I am the Commander-in-Chief now.”
Gaspard tossed out the words casually and began climbing the stairs.
At the very least, he gave his all to the duties he was given.
A humid breeze began to mix with the air.
It was already July, the height of summer.
The soldiers standing guard beneath the blazing sun looked utterly exhausted.
Their clothes clung uncomfortably to their sweat-soaked bodies.
Red welts appeared everywhere, and the soldiers scratched at them with their hands.
Weary from the heat, the soldiers had become irritable, reacting sharply to even the smallest things.
Even now, simply because someone had nudged them, two soldiers began arguing, and it seemed about to turn into a fight.
“What do you think you are doing?!”
At that moment, a captain’s shout as he ascended the battlements for patrol made the soldiers stop.
Their faces were flushed red with anger.
From behind the captain, Gaspard followed slowly.
The captain who had shouted earlier carefully watched Gaspard, the new Commander-in-Chief.
He worried that any hint of lax discipline among the soldiers might be seen as a fault.
Gaspard clicked his tongue in irritation.
“Give them water.”
An unexpectedly merciful order.
Gaspard was the type who carefully calculated gain and loss.
Here, it was better to give the soldiers water than to punish them harshly, if it meant they would fight better.
From the battlements, water was distributed from wooden buckets to all the soldiers on guard.
The well water was lukewarm, but in this heat it felt refreshing.
Some drank it carefully to cool their throats, others splashed it on their heads or feet to ease the heat.
Gaspard faithfully carried out his role as Commander-in-Chief.
Of course, his influence was limited to the soldiers inside Ileang Castle.
Still, managing them well was something.
The soldiers of the entire kingdom could only be addressed after driving the enemy back slightly.
Gaspard walked the battlements, resisting the urge to fan himself.
In truth, there was nothing he could do, and his visits brought no real help.
As a civil official, he could not train soldiers, nor could he devise clever strategies to defend the castle.
“Commander! It has been reported that suspicious individuals have been discovered over there!”
Following his subordinate’s report, Gaspard changed direction.
Could they be enemies?
No, if so, the report would have said “enemy” clearly.
Then could they be civilians who had fled to this place?
If so, should they be allowed inside the castle?
Gaspard’s thoughts were complicated.
Those in positions of responsibility had to think more and decide more carefully.
A small group on horseback, perhaps twenty strong, approached the castle.
Not enough to be called an enemy force, but they had to prepare for the worst.
The soldiers on the battlements raised their bows and nocked arrows at the same time.
This proved the soldiers’ training was adequate.
The taut bowstrings aimed at the approaching riders.
The riders continued toward the castle even after seeing the arrows pointed at them.
They were close enough to recognize faces.
Gaspard narrowed his eyes and watched the group.
He recognized a few familiar faces.
He ordered the soldiers.
“Lower your bows.”
The well-trained soldiers lowered their bows at once.
The castle gates opened.
Gaspard went down to meet the approaching riders himself.
At the head of the group, a woman who looked exhausted yet still beautiful stood with her head held high, panting.